Disposable Lit Reviews

Ballantine Books, 1955/1976
163 pp.
ISBN 345-25314-0

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The Martians in Fredric Brown’s comic novel are not the two-dimensional invaders common to so many alien invasion novels, defined only by their rapacious appetite for stuff that’s ours (and, of course, by the single exploitable flaw in their technology or biology by which the defenders can win their victory). Nor are they the all-too-human aliens who imitate the Nazis in their political psychology and outdistance our tech by only a single generation (except, of course, for the single exploitable flaw that yada yada yada). Brown created the most dastardly version of invading Martians to grace the genre: million of the little green buggers, utterly invulnerable and dedicated solely to annoying the bejeezus out of us.

That’s right, little green men. They arrive on Earth in the far-flung future of 1964 in planet-blanketing quantities, roughly one per every half-dozen humans. They arrive instantaneously via an ability they call “kwimming,” a talent which they use to blip in and out of any earthly locale. They can’t be touched by any earthly agency, be it matter or energy. They refer to all men as “Mack” and all women as “Toots” or the equivalent in the local language. They can see into and through any substance. They exhibit very little variation in personal appearance, and absolutely none in temperament: their sole pleasure is in annoying the people of Earth.

The closest thing we have to a protagonist is Luke Devereaux, a science fiction writer with writer’s block. Yes, that’s usually a red flag for a “Mary Sue” character (or a late-period Stephen King novel), but think about it: who’s the best viewpoint individual for an alien invasion? Not that Luke’s an effective hero; he spends the first chapter believing that the little green man sitting in front of him and insulting him is a drunken hallucination, and the next several chapters wishing he was right. Luke’s not in a stable place, having just broken up with his wife and finding himself unable to fulfill his publisher’s contract (and earn his advance), and so a needling unwanted visitor who can’t be shut up is the last thing he needs.

Why are they here? No one can figure out out, and the Martians feel no need to explain. Their activities seem to be limited to showing up whenever and annoying whoever they find. They never lie; they can cause fully enough havoc by telling the truth at inconvenient junctures. Politics fall apart, especially the Cold War; so do many marriages. Because how can human relations continue in any recognizable form when infiltrated by an antagonistic force which, without any physical contact, willfully disrupts every human activity?

It’s a comic near-masterpiece, though you couldn’t tell from the reviews of the 1990 movie starring Randy Quaid that was loosely based on it. And I think I can see why the book regrettably hasn’t been reprinted since 1992; the date-stamping of the events to 1964 (the near future from the composition date of 1955) leaves it neither fish nor fowl. And I’m sure that calling the Martian teleportation ability “kwimming” is a hurdle all its own. But if you find it at a used bookstore (most likely in the discount bin), it’s worth adding to your library.